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Sunday, February 22, 2009

THE TOP 20 ALBUMS THAT FOREVER CHANGED MY MUSICAL PERCEPTIONS

When I signed up on Facebook I did not expect to be constantly bombarded with people sending me cute little doodads, requests for me to join every organization under the sun or pass on a "stoner" to twenty-five people, and much of the Facebook junk mail I get I simply delete and move on. But in the past couple of weeks I've found myself addicted to a number of questionnaires that have been circulating about movies, books and music, but the one I filled out today really made me wrack my brain and I figured I'd share my results with you in hope that you'll share your own results with me. I was sent the questionnaire by fellow music-freak Glenn "The Jew" Greenberg and his introduction to "The Top 15 Albums That Changed My Musical Perceptions" read roughly as follows:

Think of 15 albums that had such a profound effect on you they changed your life or the way you looked at it. They sucked you in and took you over for days, weeks, months, years. These are the albums that you can use to identify time, places, people, emotions. They might not be what you listen to now, but these are the albums that no matter what they were thought of musically shaped your world.When you finish, tag 15 others, including me. Make sure you copy and paste this part so they know the drill. Get the idea now? Good. Tag, you're it!

So here are my answers to the questionnaire, in no particular order (with five extra picks to make an even twenty), so please write in with your own list if you feel like sharing.

When I first witnessed Devo performing "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" and "Jocko Homo" on SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE back in 1978, I had no idea what the fuck I was hearing and seeing. The bizarro sounds put out by a quintet of dorky-looking white boys from Ohio caused something to click within my thirteen-year-old brain and from that moment I became an active participant in the music I listened to, allowing myself to really pay attention to and comprehend a song's lyrics and musicianship while finally getting that a band was actually trying to create a sound that made them unique, separating them from the musical masses. When I first heard this debut album by Devo, it simultaneously opened my doorways of musical perception and permanently killed any desire to listen to mainstream radio. Plus the album displayed a sense of intelligence and wit that I'd never before encountered in anything I'd heard previous.

2. A DATE WITH ELVIS (1986)-The Cramps

Not the first Cramps album I ever heard — more on that later — but definitely the one that cemented their sound for me and also the album where the band's sexual obsessions reached unabashed, ludicrous and often hilarious heights. By far the band's finest hour.

3. IT'S ALIVE (1979)-The Ramones

I'm kind of cheating with this one because it's impossible for me to pick which of the Ramones' first three albums affected me the most, so I go with this excellent recording of a live New Year's Eve show they did in England back in 1977. It's damned near every song from their first three records and this double-LP captured the band's undeniable live energy like no other live album, showcasing exactly what made the Ramones' brand of stripped-down, primal rock 'n' roll great. As a kid who grew up on a steady diet of oldies, this was like a new band working in an almost-dead language that I was familiar with, and as this came out during the tail end of the disco plague, it was like a miracle cure.

4. OCEAN RAIN (1984)-Echo & The Bunnymen

Orchestral as a sumbitch, lyrical and more than a little bit "fruity," there's just something about this strange assemblage of nautically-themed tunes that struck a chord with me. Conjuring up all kinds of dark seafaring imagery in my head, I listen to this album more often than I care to admit.

5. PENTHOUSE & PAVEMENT (1981)-Heaven 17

Perhaps the quintessential British "fag rock" album, this is a tour de force of catchy new wave dance tunes and has been a favorite of mine since I wandered into Bleeker Bob's record store back in 1981 and heard "The Height of the Fighting" blasting from the store's sound system. That song hit me like a one-million-volt anal probe and it was all I could do not to start wildly dancing about the place after tearing off my clothes and donning war paint. I bought the album on the spot, the first time I ever bought an album motivated solely by happening to be in the right place at the right time; I've bought other albums on the spot since this one, but none have given me even one tenth the pleasure I get from "Penthouse & Pavement." In fact, this album has the unique distinction of being the only vinyl LP I played so much that I actually wore out three copies before I got it on CD. (I have worn out other albums, but not the same one multiple times.) Not for all tastes, but I fucking love it.

6. ORIGINAL MOODY'S MOOD (1968)-King Pleasure

One of the very few jazz records I own, this was an album that my mother turned me on to when I was around ten. A collection of King Pleasure's classics — the exquisite "I'm In the Mood For Love," "Jumping With Symphony Sid," "Red Top," "Don't Get Scared" and others — this one goes down easy and is a joy to experience. I have a limited capacity for enjoying jazz, but this album is responsible for that door being opened to me.

7. GRAVEST HITS (1979)-The Cramps

The first Cramps album and my first exposure to them at the age of fifteen. Simple, minimalist, grimy "psychobilly," this hooked me with the dribbly opening riff on "Human Fly" and I haven't looked back since.

8. HAIR (1968)-Original cast recording

This somewhat-risque album was considered wholly appropriate for my family's turntable — surprisingly, it was my mother's album and her favorite at the time — and has been burned into my musical lexicon since I was four. I had no idea what the songs about masturbation, drugs, comparative analysis of interracial sex and commentary on the Vietnam War were about, but I did know that the album was "groovy" and I liked it very much indeed. Especially the fifteen-note opening riff to "Donna."

9. ARMED FORCES (1979)-Elvis Costello and The Attractions

The other album that had a huge hand in making me give up pop music radio for good. Intelligent, beautifully played and shocking the hell out me with the fact that a guy with such a ridiculous stage name could have such a smooth voice, this one resonates for effortlessly shifting between being outright rockin' and having a seriously dark, sad and bleak undercurrent. "Party Girl," "Big Boys," "Goon Squad," "Oliver's Army" and many truly excellent songs flesh this one out and make it what many consider the best of this artist's catalog. In terms of enjoyment I prefer the musical grab bag of "Get Happy!!" but this is the one made me pay attention.

10. SPECIALS (1979)-The Specials

Hands-down the best of the British ska revival albums of the late-1970's/early-1980's, this was my first exposure to the genre and it greatly appealed to me as some sinister mutant hybrid of reggae and I-don't-know-what. It was like nothing I'd heard before and it's light years better than much of the by-the-numbers ska acts that followed in its wake.

11. DIRTY LOVE SONGS (1986)-GG Allin

I love rock 'n' roll and I love juvenile and filthy stuff, so how could I not enjoy the extremely questionable work of GG Allin? Possessing not one iota of redeeming social importance, this 2-record set was an eye-opening primer on exactly how vile and stupid one performer's work could be and, god help me, it's one of my favorites. This is where I first encountered such moving ditties as "I Wanna Fuck Myself," "I Wanna Piss On You," "Kill the Children, Save the Food" (a song about Ethiopia released around the time of the sickening "We Are the World"), "Abuse Myself I Wanna Die" and the Hank Williams, Jr. parody/tribute "Scumfuc Tradition," and when I'm feeling depressed I put this on, sing along and skip about my apartment like a loon (although not with a microphone lodged up my ass like GG would have done). In fact, despite its undeniably across-the-board-offensive material, I recommend this album for kids ten and under precisely because it displays a childlike — to say nothing of childish — sensibility and even feels like it was written by a very naughty eight-year-old.

12. WILD PLANET (1980)-The B-52's

I'd heard and loved "Rock Lobster" for its retro-1960's "Batman"-esque feel, but this was the album where the B-52's sounded less like a quirky gimmick band and more like a group with a feel and style all their own. While their first album had a lot of fun and playful poppy stuff on it, "Wild Planet" bears a strange atmosphere of things in the retro world being not quite right that carries through the entire record, culminating with the moody instrumental "53 Miles West of Venus," a piece that interestingly brings things full circle back to the first album's sci-fi opus "Planet Claire." It should also be noted that this was another album that I bought on the spot when I heard it being played in a record store at the time of its release, and what sold me was the excellent "Give Me back My Man," which instantly became — and remains — one of my all-time favorite songs.

Without question, this is THE seminal album of punk rock as we know it. The Ramones may have gotten there first, but the Pistols refined the DIY concept with a well-earned sense of anger over the shitty state of the UK during their time and proved that a singer didn't need to have actual musical ability to be affecting and lend songs of dissatisfaction great emotional power.

13. BATMAN THEME (1966)-The Ventures

I love twangy surf instrumentals, so how could I not love an album of such by one of the genre's cornerstone bands that provides kickass covers of mid-1960's adventure/spy TV shows? This was my first Ventures album and it made me a fan for life — in spite of its unimaginative title — featuring "Hot Line," their fun version of the "Batman Theme," and a haunting and percussion-driven "Get Smart," but the tune on this that just kicks my ass every time I hear it is their version of "The Man From U.N.C.L.E."

14. THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT (1979)-The Who

This soundtrack to the documentary of the same name is basically a "greatest hits" collection with one major distinction: it captures The Who in all of their manic glory in a succession of terrific live performances, each with the one-of-a-kind drumming of the exceptional Keith Moon. I bought this album during the Summer of 1980 in order to give myself a broad overview of the band rather than the limited exposure to them I'd thus far had, which was mostly "Tommy" and whatever handful of hits were played repeatedly on the radio, and as a result I'm a Moon-era Who fan for life.

15. SIN ALLEY (1986)-Various obscure artists

As previously stated, I grew up listening to old school rock 'n' roll, so I love trying out anything that's old and obscure from the form's pre-Beatles days. When I chanced upon this questionably-legal compilation in the Summer of 1986 I had no clue who any of the performers on it were, but I was willing to give it a chance since it and its two subsequent volumes were on sale for five bucks each at New Haven, Connecticut's now defunct Rhymes Records, one of the best record stores I've ever had the pleasure to enter. Loaded with totally obscure bands and solo acts, this is a treasure trove of the kind of music you'd expect to hear at Jesus O'clock in the morning while trying to hold down your eighth shot of Jose Quervo in some dank, smoky, windowless basement decorated with mangy leopard print tapestries while a way-past-her-prime stripper stuffs her stretch-marked, pastie-adorned jugs in your face. This is now available on CD and I urge you to take a chance on it.

16. MACHINE GUN ETIQUETTE (1979)-The Damned

The third salvo from the first U.K. punk band to commit their music to vinyl, this, along with their seminal first album, is the record that cemented the Damned as punk royalty. Standing apart from their contemporaries by being rather apolitical and instead concentrating on kickass tunes (many of which displayed their sense of humor), the Damned flew in the face of British punk's oft-cited credo of "all you need to to do to make music is pick up an instrument and simply hack away," with the music bearing professionalism, genuine quality, and catchiness, all propelled by the fantastic vocals of vampirish frontman David Vanian (to whom I would say Glenn Danzig owes a considerable stylistic debt). This album includes such classics as "Melody Lee," "Smash It Up Parts 1 & 2," "Love Song," "I Just Can't Be Happy Today,"Anti-Pope, an exceptional cover of the MC5's "Looking at You," and the song that made me a fan for life, the transcendent "Plan 9 Channel 7." Seriously, check this out:

If you choose to add a Damned album to your collection, I'd say go with this one over the self-titled first record. It features the band at its best, and the Damned at its best is truly a force to be reckoned with.

17. WALK AMONG US (1982)-The Misfits

Now justly hailed as a classic and latched onto by later-day fans in the same way that Led Zeppelin saw a resurgence in the early-1980's, this is the definitive release from the band that pretty much cornered the market on "horror punk." Since its release, it has influenced countless bands and serves as a gateway cornucopia to everything that made the Misfits the best thing ever to come out of Lodi, New Jersey. This is the rarest of the rare, namely an American punk album where there's not one dud song on the whole damned thing. Frontman Glenn Danzig went on to considerable solo success (and doucheiness) while the band continues to this day under the auspices of Jerry Only, but this album is the classic Misfits from which the big deal hype springs.

18. DON'T BREAK THE OATH (1984)-Mercyful Fate

Hands down my favorite metal album of all time, I was so taken with this one that when I first heard it I got up from my drawing desk in the Marvel Bullpen and immediately went out to buy myself a copy on CD, which I then proceeded to listen to at least three times a day for the next three months. The music and musicianship are powerful, King Diamond's all-over-the-place vocal stylings are singular, and never has Satan-oriented metal sounded so beautiful. Not for all tastes but it sure as Hell kicked my black ass!

19. PHILOSOPHY OF THE WORLD (1969)-The Shaggs

This one is definitely not for all tastes, as it has been universally hailed as one of the worst albums in the entire history of the known universe since its release four decades ago. Now falling under the "outsider music" label, this album by three sisters of considerably questionable musical ability is easy to make fun of and find unintentionally hilarious — aspects that drew me to it like a fly to fresh dogshit — but as I grew older I found it to contain considerable heart to go along with its seemingly endless black hole of anti-tunefulness. Though it's an ear-wilting head-scratcher from start to finish, the standouts here are the title track, the charming "It's Halloween," and the song that frequently tops polls for the worst song ever recorded, the immortal "My Pal Foot Foot," which relates the singer's search for a missing cat. In fact, the less said about that one the better, as it speaks quite eloquently for itself:

I speak without hyperbole when I state that my life was irrevocably changed after hearing that song for the first time.

20. OVER-NITE SENSATION (1973)-Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention

What more need be said about this one, other than that it was my introduction to the looney/dirty/musically incredible world of Frank Zappa? "Dirty Love," "I'm the Slime," "Fifty-Fifty," "Zomby Woof," "Dinah-Moe Humm" (which was a real eye-opener when heard at age thirteen), and the epochal "Montana" are all present, and not one of them has ceased to sound fresh.

3 comments:

Here are mine, more-or-less chronological order, based on their impact on my life:

1. Cheap Thrills (1968) - Big Brother and the Holding Company In a childhood filled with music (most of it either '40s doo-wop or '60s psychedelic), this album stands out for me as being the first "record album" I could recognize as such - mostly because it scared the hell out of me! Besides the throat-shredding antics of Janis Joplin, the album lodged in my memory for its Robert Crumb cover; the off-kilter nature of its brilliance literally made little-kid me sick to my stomach when I looked at it. I didn't understand the music at all (that came later), but in the late '60s, I would dart a glance at this album in creeped-out fascination, feel my tummy do back-flips, and look away again. To this day, Cheap Thrills remains the only album on this list that I do not own. 2. Alive II (1977) - Kiss

How did I miss the ascension of Kiss? When I hit 7th grade in 1977, half the kids at my Catholic school already adored the band, while the other half detested everything they stood for. Little horror freak that I was, I latched like a lamprey onto a band that sported blood-spitting, fire-breathing masked demonic personages; the fact that their music tapped into my inner demon provided an extra treat. The flaming gatefold of the album and the thundering explosions dubbed into its background gave me expectations of hellish grandeur that few Rock concerts (including those by Kiss) ever quite lived up to. My friend Mike would put on Alive II when his mom was at work, and we'd air-guitar ourselves sick. Once, we even grabbed hair-spray cans and lighters, then ran around the house shooting fireballs at one another! Luckily, we didn't burn the house down or anything... Sure, I renounced Kiss by the time I hit high school, but during my 7th and 8th grade years, Kiss were my heroes.

3. In the Court of the Crimson King (1969) - King Crimson

I've always been a moody guy, but my fascination with gloomy romanticism probably dates to this album... this first record, incidentally, that I had sex to! Like many of my early musical adventures, this one was introduced to me by my father, whose appreciation for weird Rock shit gave me a cornerstone for my tastes even now. A morbid slice of prog, Court is a phenomenal musical statement wrapped in some of the dreariest lyrics imaginable. When I wrapped myself in adolescent angst, this album received heavy rotation indeed. 4. Songs From the Wood (1977)/ M.U. -The Best of Jethro Tull (1976) - Jethro Tull

My family used to take endless car-trips between New York and Virgina during the 1970s. On those trips, Dad would play various tapes. Somehow, these strange little albums by a weird Brit standing on one leg captured my imagination in unprecedented ways. I know nothing about the Celtic Rock genre until I hit college a few years later; from that point onward, my Pagan roots have been watered by the likes of Steeleye Span, Clannad, Fairport Convention and Oysterband. Tull, however, became a mainstay of my music collection during the late 1970s and ealy 1980s, counterbalancing the libidinnous ferocity of Punk and Metal with the sardonic sweetness of Ian Anderson's lunatic band.

5. We Sold Our Souls for Rock 'n Roll (1975) - Black Sabbath In 1978, I transferred from the hell-on-earth Catholic school where I'd discovered Kiss to the less-dysfunctional "special needs" school Quander Road, where I spent 8th grade ('78-'79). By that time, my parents marriage had fractured, and that trauma - mixed with social anxieties, spiritual upheavals, lousy schooling in Hawaii, a case of dyslexia that I learned about over a decade later, an awful temper and typical 13/14-year-old bullshit - had me begging my parents to send me to Quander. There, I discovered a wealth of new bands: Pink Floyd, AC-DC, George Thoroughgood, Van Halen... and Black Sabbath. One of the creepier kids in Quander was named Rob Lippard. A tall, gangly dude with long hair and Charles Manson eyes, he spoke in Satanic gibberish and toted Black Sabbath albums everywhere. I'd heard of Sabbath by then, but it wasn't until I overheard "Iron Man" that I cribbed to that evil Blues sound. Naturally, I loved it immediately... and time has proven Sabbath to be the most musically enduring Metal of all. Although Priest, Rush, Maiden and so on are still fun for me, Sabbath sounds better as I get older. I received this album for Christmas (!!!) in 1979 or '80, and it remains one of my all-time favorites. 6. Unleashed in the East (1979)/ Sad Wings of Destiny (1976) - Judas Priest

The band most responsible for my dispatch of Kiss came screaming out of a recording I had dubbed off the radio. I'd been taping ELP's "Peter Gunn Theme" off WRXL in '79 when the DJ segued into this kick-ass live ripper called "Green Manalishi." I was floored. At first, I assumed the song came from the same live ELP album that had birthed "Peter Gunn"; a few weeks later, I discovered the truth, and Unleashed in the East became one of the first albums I bought with my own money. Ironically, Kiss' Destroyer had been the first. The Metal pounding from the Priest, however, put Kiss to shame, and I abandoned my first Metal love in favor of the learner, meaner Priest. As influential as Unleashed was, however, it paled in comparison to Sad Wings of Destiny. By the early '80s, I had purchased Priest's entire catalog; of them all, Sad Wings was my obsession. When I descended into my gloomiest states, the damned angel on that album cover became my mascot. Some folks would later claim that such fascination was an inducement to suicide, but like any metalhead who's found grace through catharsis, I maintain that albums like Sad Wings actually avert tragedy. For me, the musical depths I plumbed with albums like that one helped me trawl through the Abyss vicariously. Without bands like Priest, Sabbath and other cathartic artists, I suspect I would have become far more messed up than I ever truly was. 7. Hemispheres (1978) - Rush

While Priest and Sabbath purged my inner demons, Rush opened the door to my imagination. My musical horizons were blown wide open when I first heard "The Trees" on - again! - WRXL in the late '70s. The combination of dizzying complexity and ripe yet sincere lyrical obtusions like "Cygnus X-1 Book II: Hemispheres" and "Circumstances" made Rush my go-to brain-candy band. I spent endless hours scribbling up D&D notes and bad poetry to the sound of Rush's albums, and to date, Hemispheres remains my favorite. 8. Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables (1980) - The Dead Kennedys

I'd heard Punk before 1982, when my friend Wally put Fresh Fruit on his turntable, but I'd never heard anything like this. Jello Biafra raved like Dudley Do-Right gone mad as some of the meanest, bone-jarring shit of its era buzzsawed through my consciousness. The Kennedys remained one of my mainstays throughout college, and their social outrage mirrored my own. When Reagan's Revolution spawned my eternal hatred for all things Republican (except my dad...), this album became the soundtrack for my dissent. 9. Big Science (1982) - Laurie Anderson

On my first day at college orientation, I met a cute girl named Chris. we hung out, and she took me back to her dorm room. I wondered if I was gonna get lucky; in a way, I did. Big Science (which she played for me that day) challenged my preconceptions about music in all the best ways. The first truly avant-garde album I'd heard at the time, it snagged the most eager-to-be-opened parts of my attention. Anderson's hypnotic witticisms entranced me; without Big Science, I doubt I'd have been nearly as receptive to Frank Zappa, Phillip Glass, Godspeed You! Black Emperor and some of the more arcane corners of my musical tastes. 10. Nothing to Fear (1982) - Oingo Boingo

I hated "New Wave" when it first came out. A Metal kid to the bone, I detested the faggy condescending twats who adored the stuff while looking down their pimply noses at the Rock I adored. One of the primary offenders raved endlessly about a band called "Oingo Boingo," a name I immediately despised, until... It was early 1984, and I was hanging out with some friends and this compulsively bouncy music cascaded out of the speakers. I began hopping around the room to it. "Who IS that?" I demanded; "Oingo Boingo," my friend replied. From then on, Danny Elfman's weird little experiment became - and remains - one of my all-time favorite bands. I even got to enjoy New Wave a bit more after that.

11. Fresh Aire I & II (1975) - Mannheim Steamroller

Yep - I like New Age Music. Blame that quirk of taste to this little centerpiece of Mannheim Steamroller's career. Almost unknown when they first appeared, Steamroller went on to become the synth-ditty gods of Christmastime via a series of cheesy holidays albums. Back in the late '70s and early '80s, however, they made far more tasteful excursions into instrumental mellowness. I was turned on to the Fresh Aire series around 1984, and it instantly appealed to the quieter side of my nature. I used Fresh Aire I and II as soundtracks during my art-school modeling career, and whenever I needed to relax or sleep, I used to put on a Steamroller mix-tape culled from the first two Fresh Aire albums. By extension, both albums blend seamlessly into one another, and so to me they're essentially the same album, continued. By the mid-80s, Mannheim Steamroller had become to cheesy for me and I abandoned the band. Still, I enjoy those first two Fresh Aire albums, and as much as I groove on dark mad thunder, there are times to just slow down and chill. 12. A Passage in Time (1991) - Dead Can Dance

Somehow, I originally got Dead Can Dance confused with Was, Not Was. This bizarre confluence may be traced to an alternative music magazine I grabbed out of a recycling bin around 1990, with articles featuring both bands. I never really cared for Was, Not Was, so when my bandmate George Midea asked me if I'd heard Dead Can Dance in 1992, I dismissed them as "too pop for my tastes." George, puzzled, recorded a few tracks from DCD on a mix-tape for me. My resulting astonishment led me to buy A Passage in Time just as I headed off to work at White Wolf in '93. To this day, that album remains a heavy-rotation staple of my collection. The shimmering darkness and transcendent beauty of that mad tapestry set the tone for my tastes from then on. My later fondness for World Trance, Gothic Ethereal and World Beat Techno can all be traced to the CD of Passage that I literally lasered clean during endless days and nights writing with White Wolf... and beyond. 13. A Slight Case of Overbombing (1992) - The Sisters of Mercy

Both credit and blame for my obsession with Goth-Industrial Rock can be laid at the feet of my '90s employers at White Wolf Game Studio. The "gothic punk" atmosphere of the World of Darkness where I plied my trade throughout that decade suited my musical inclinations perfectly, and although I'd already owned albums like The Sky's Gone Out from Bauhaus, Phantasmagoria from The Damned, Bloodletting from Concrete Blonde and Blast the Human Flower from Danielle Dax, no album captures the heady nature of that era like this best-of from The Sisters of Mercy. Everything rich and strange about Gothic Rock booms its way through Overbombing. Just as Sad Wings and Hemispheres became the soundtrack for my adolescence, Overbombing provided endless hours of pleasure and pain during my 1990s. 14. Play (1998) - Moby

Until Play came out, my feelings about Techno were lukewarm at best. Even albums like Delerium's Karma or Die Form's Suspiria de Profundis seemed too... sterile for my tastes. When I heard Play in the wake of my departure from White Wolf (and the Goth-Industrial thunder that went with that part of my life), this album was a revelation. Here was Techno merged with spirituality, a swirling synthesis of dance-floor beats, Gospel vocals and Classical flourishes that spoke to my soul in ways few other albums have. Yeah, the album became an over-exposed relic of its time, but whenever I need some achingly eloquent redemption, I often reach for Play. 15. Songs from the Gutter (2002) - Thea Gilmore

This was the album that saved my faith in Rock. A few years back, I'd totally had it with the Xeroxed corporate trash that passed for "rock" in the new millennium. I was listening almost exclusively to World Fusion artists and my old favorite albums when this raspy-throated chick ripped some Neil Young barbed wire off the nearest tree and used it to hang Rock by its scrawny little neck. Somehow, this gem found its way into Barnes and Noble's "in-store play" collection, and I was enthralled. The two-disc US re-released of Gutter came out shortly after I'd moved to Asheville, NC, and Gilmore's snarled challenge "When did You Get so Safe?" gave my soul a serious wake-up call. I love every song on this double album, and when I despair that Rock has given out its final gasp, I remember these Songs From the Gutter and realize that the hoary old beast still has a few surprises left.